The Thrill of Hope
by Miranda River
Summary: Christmas-themed one-shot. Set pre-movie.


**As many thanks as there are Christmas lights to AtanaM for telling me to post this, because it was, in her words, adorable. All the Christmas cookies in the world belong to mhgood, because she beta'd this so quickly and so insightfully and despite the fact that I wrote this semi-incoherently, she took my ramblings and made art. I couldn't do this without you guys, nor can I possibly express how grateful I am to have such amazing betas.**

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Like all ancient holidays, no one was quite sure what, exactly, Christmas was supposed to be, but the holiday in its current manifestation during the 23rd century was a day of festivities and good-will, of eating and gift-giving. Buildings were decorated and trees were trimmed for the sake of tradition, because, quite simply, that is what was always done.

Some deeply religious people still attended the Christmas services at churches every year, but Christmas, for the majority, was an abstract holiday of peace and good-will, of remembering the good of humanity rather than the evil they faced.

It sometimes snowed in San Fransisco, due to the effects of climate change of prior centuries. It was always a wet snow and never lasted long, as if the weather recognized the need of a novelty item during the holidays. Satellite radio blasted Christmas music; it became popular for intergalatic bands to do covers of songs, particularly 20thcentury Christmas songs. The Orion all-girl punk band, Ruya, was famous for their covers of Christmas songs, fusing them with Orion melodies and the band's punk rock sensibilities. Gaila, in particular, loved them and insisted on blasting their music as she decorated a fake tree she purchased at the drug store for the dorm room she shared with Nyota.

"I think it's a fantastic holiday," Gaila said stubbornly. Nyota, for reasons Gaila did not quite understand, did not get into the Christmas spirit.

"Gaila, it's a stupid tradition completely perverted from its origins. Besides, we have finals coming up and term papers to write and is it too much to ask that you tone it down?"

Gaila twirled around from trimming her tree with something the store clerk called tinsel—apparently one draped the silvery shiny stuff around the tree; Gaila thought it was awfully pretty--and faced her roommate sitting at her desk, staring at a PADD. "Okay, what happened during the half-blood prince's class?"

Nyota winced. "Could you _please_ not call him that. He's a _commander_. He's our superior and professor and he deserves our respect."

Gaila smirked. "Oh, so you imagining him making out with you all over his desk is your version of respect?"

"Gaila!" Nyota gasped, mortified. Gaila was right, which made Conversational Vulcan embarrassing and difficult and sometimes Nyota wanted to drop the damn class. But Nyota Uhura was a lot of things, and a quitter was not among them.

"It's okay, you know. We all get crushes on professors. And I guess you could do worse than the Ice King himself. I mean, he's kind of good looking, for a _Vulcan_. I just wish he weren't such a hard-ass when it came to grading. Honestly, I put a lot of effort into Beginning Vulcan and all I got was a C! I never get C's, Nyota, until Commander Stick-Up-The-Ass deemed my pronunciation 'too emotional.'"

Nyota smirked. "Well, you did tend to bring a lilt to your voice, it was almost like you were singing."

Gaila shrugged and said the Orion expression equivalent to "bite me."

"Anyway, back to you and this anti-Christmas spirit you have. Must you completely dampen the holidays, Nyota?"

"We have finals, Gaila."

Gaila bit her bottom lip as she fiddled with the end of the tinsel. Then her face brightened. "Oh! Why don't you think of this as a way to relieve stress? Everyone needs fun in her life, Nyota, even you."

Nyota rolled her eyes as Ruya played a rousing rendition of _Last Christmas_. "Whatever you say, Gaila. I just don't want to see any mistletoe around here, okay? I'm going to class." She pulled on her coat, grabbed her PADD, and walked out the door as Gaila sang along with Ruya.

* * *

Nyota, growing up, loved Christmas. Her mother cleaned the house so it gleamed, then decorated it, making it suddenly glow with warmth and magic. A week before Christmas, they would bake Christmas cookies, so many that the the smell of sugar and butter and spices lasted until New Year's. Tree-decorating was like a party, with her mother singing songs and her father humming along, and she and her brothers would fight over who got to place their ornament where. Then, on Christmas Day, her brothers would wake up at the first light and there was be a flood of presents, so many that they wouldn't be able to properly walk around the living room, and the day would be spent among family, laughing and loving and knowing that, at least for a day, love and good had prevailed in the world.

She wasn't sure if it was the stress of finals and papers and life in general, but she just wasn't in the Christmas spirit this year. San Fransisco had been rainy for the past week and the ground squelched beneath her boots. Furthermore, it was cold; not cold enough for snow or ice, but cold enough to remember that it was, indeed, winter.

And there was the inescapable, glaring fact that she was in love with her professor.

It wasn't even worth denying to Gaila anymore. After all, Nyota made sure her translations were finished for Commander Spock's classes before she even looked at her other work. When she had a question, she visited Commander Spock's office, instead of just sending him an inter-campus communication from her PADD like she did with her other professors. And, Nyota wasn't sure if this were true or not, Gaila said her pheromones were going into overdrive when she returned from Commander Spock's classes.

Nyota wanted to think they were somewhat friends. She was, really, the only student who bothered to talk to him about any of the assignments, except for those who complained about a bad grade. They would, inevitably, end up talking about other things. Spock—_Commander _Spock, she reminded herself—asked her if she had ever been off-world and whether she had any training in 3-D chess. They would discuss the latest xenolinguistics article in the academic journals and she was the one who got him to put in a translation portion to the final exam, instead of just the straight conjugation and grammatical exegeses that he normally constituted as a final exam.

But, he was her professor and a superior officer and a _Vulcan_, well, half-Vulcan. Point being, he probably just saw her as a promising communications officer and that was it. At worst, he saw her as a nuisance.

Though he always invited her to sit when she came to his office. He had yet to turn her away, even when he was busy.

He was probably just being polite.

A pain shot through her head and she hissed; these migraines really needed to stop. The doctor in the sick bay, a Doctor McCoy, told her on Friday it was just stress and that she just needed to relax. She reminded the doctor that she had three exams due before 1800 hours on Monday and another in-class examination on Tuesday at 1300. He threw up his hands and told her that he was a doctor, not a miracle worker.

She wanted to believe in Christmas again, the possibility of miracles and goodness and everything. More and more often, she found herself wishing that when she went into Commander Spock's office with a question, that he would lock that damn door to his office, tell her it was illogical to keep up this pretense, or something to that effect, and yes, Gaila was right, kiss her silly all over that desk of his.

Of course, none of that happened. It never happened. He was Vulcan and she was a cadet and he probably didn't even notice she was female.

She tugged her coat closer. Gods, it was cold out. She missed the comforting heat of Africa and couldn't wait for her shuttle back next week. Maybe she and her sisters could have some girl time in Cairo, help her forget all about her silly school-girl crush.

She entered the xenolinguistics building and pressed the button for the turbolift. She had kind of lied to Gaila when she said she had class, and she was sure Gaila knew, because Gaila, computer girl genius she was, knew Nyota's class schedule. Nyota couldn't say that she was turning in her translation for her Vulcan final early without Gaila giving her grief about it, so she said a bit of a lie. She was kind of going to class. It was academic in nature.

She tapped her foot, wondering what was taking the turbolift so long. Finally, the doors swooshed open and she stepped inside, pressing the button to the fifth floor, where Commander Spock's office was.

She knew he would be there. It wasn't his office hours, but that didn't seem to matter, he would be there, working on something. She hoped he wouldn't mind her showing up, she really wanted to drop off her translation and be a little bit closer to freedom.

His office was on the opposite end of the hallway, and she walked the deserted corridor of closed office doors to the one room that had the light on. She placed her hand up to the bio-scanner and it dinged, letting her know that it was announcing her to Commander Spock.

Soon he was standing before her, and her eyes widened slightly. She hadn't expected him to be this close to her, nor had she expected to see him wearing eye-glasses that made his eyes seem slightly bigger, more vulnerable somehow.

"Cadet. Do you require my assistance?"

She mentally kicked herself, reminding it would be a very good idea to speak, now. "Yes, no, I mean, I just wanted to turn in my translation, sir."

He raised his eyebrow. "It is not due for another 50 hours and 34 minutes, Cadet."

"I am aware,sir."

His lips curled, just a little bit and Nyota kicked herself again, this time for looking at her professor's lips.

"Why are you wearing glasses?" she blurted.

'Oh gods,' she thought. What in the world was she thinking? Who in the world asking a question like that to their professor? To Commander Spock?

"I found my hard-drive of my PADD to be malfunctioning. I needed to repair it. While my eyesight is impeccable by human standards, I find the magnification helpful when dealing with the small components of PADD hard-drives."

"Oh. That's...perfectly logical.''

He bowed his head. "Thank you, Cadet."

She turned to leave; this conversation was like a lead balloon trying to float.

"Cadet," he said as she turned, "I believe it is customary for professors to express their appreciation for their particularly gifted students and commend them for their hard work at the end of a semester."

She was pretty sure Commander Spock was trying to tell her something, in his Commander Spock like way, though she wasn't quite sure. She was worried, worried she was reading too much into it, worried that the subtext really wasn't there, worried about so many things.

"Yes," she said uncertainly.

"You should not worry about this translation, Cadet. For you to have come this far in your Vulcan studies means that you could not truly fail at grasping the meaning of the sentences."

Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Who said anything about being worried?"

"You have not been sleeping as much as you require and as such you have increased your coffee intake. You frown much more than you normally do, nor do you smile nearly as much. My analysis of human behavior leads me to believe that you are stressed. You turned in this translation early, though you had other assignments to complete. You were worried about this translation, in particular, Cadet. Am I incorrect in my deduction?"

Damn the man, what else did he know? Surely he didn't...he didn't realize...?

"No," she said, hoping that that was all the deducing he was doing, "no, you're not wrong."

"Then my previous statement stands. You should not be worried, Cadet."

She smiled. "Thank you, Commander."

They heard drunken carolers outside his window. "Cadet, it's too dark outside for you to be walking the campus alone, particularly when there is disorderliness in the form of festivities. Please allow me to escort you to your dorm."

"Thank you, Commander."

They walked in silence to the turbolift and stayed in silence its descent. There was a tension Nyota couldn't quite place, couldn't quite decide if it was of her own mind or actually there. When they got off the turbolift and walked out of the building, the tension eased and they talked about academic matters.

"Did you find the translation difficult?"

"Not at all, Commander. While it was not easy, I appreciated its challenge."

He nodded at that. "Vulcan syntax can be difficult for some Terrans to comprehend."

"Really? I didn't find it all that difficult."

He tilted his head at her. "Fascinating."

She felt her cheeks burn and she was glad that between her skin tone and the blanket of night, Commander Spock couldn't see her blush.

"Will you be staying at the Academy over break, Commander?"

"I am going off-world this holiday, Cadet. My mother has requested my presence for the holiday, and as illogical as it is, I indulge her and then I will be visiting the world of Ryphon 567 for the remainder of the holiday."

"Oh." For reasons she can't possibly begin to understand, she was disappointed to know that he wouldn't be on Earth.

"And yourself?"

"I'll be going back to Africa, visiting family, maybe going to Cairo."

"I have not had the fortune of visiting the United States of Africa during my Terran travels."

"You'd like it."

"I will have to visit the continent the next time the opportunity arises."

They stopped at the main door of her dormitory building, the awkward silence ensuing once again.

"So I guess--"

"You have made--"

She laughed a bit and motioned for him to continue to speak.

"Now that you are back at your dormitory safely, Cadet, I will take my leave."

She smiled. "Thank you, Commander. I appreciate you walking me back."

"It was of no trouble."

She turned to go inside, feeling slightly hollow, slightly numb from everything and nothing, from the stresses of her classes and the stresses of her personal life, from the crush on Commander Spock she had to the lack of sunshine in San Fransisco for the past week. She wanted a long, hot shower to get rid of the cold that seemed to infuse her and then down a shot of Jack for good measure. Then, she heard his voice.

"Cadet."

"Yes, Commander?"

"I believe that around this time of year, Terrans say, 'Happy holidays.'"

She smiled. "Happy holidays, Commander. I'll see you next semester."

She turned to go inside, not seeing him standing there, watching her.

* * *

She was surprised to find that when she entered her room, she didn't mind the Christmas music nearly as much, nor did she mind the little Christmas tree. In fact, it was even kind of pretty, with the tinsel Gaila had awkwardly draped on the tree and the lights twinkling. She sat on her bed, thinking about how ironic it was that a Vulcan had to remind her to enjoy herself and to stop stressing so much. She looked up at the fiber-optic snowflakes Gaila bought that she hung from the ceiling, thinking about how Spock—she didn't even remind herself to call him Commander anymore, in her head—wished her happy holidays and told her she was good at xenolinguistics.

It wasn't a declaration of love, and it certainly wasn't mad kissing all over his desk, but it made her smile, all the same.


End file.
